


A Blue View

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, implied fero/samol, spoilers for up to SiH24
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Fero and Tabard talk - gods and lords, magic lost and found and unknowable.





	A Blue View

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to maddie, for betaing

 

Fero looks out onto the ocean. It looks much nicer from land than it does on a boat. Pretty, even, with the early morning light glittering pink on the waves. It's not quite the blue view he asked for, but it's still nice enough.  


 

He pulls himself up so that he’s sitting on the railing, swinging his legs back and forward, thumping his heels in the rhythm of an old song. He can’t remember where he knows the song from now. It was probably one of Samol’s.

 

His throat aches, sharp and sudden, and Fero swallows around it, tilting his head up at the sky. He closes his eyes against the pink light, taking deep breaths of the cold sea air. He does his best to think of nothing, trying to force out the memory of Samol’s warm voice and leave the sound of the waves in its place.

 

It helps, a little, but he can still feel the old, deep magic of the world, the way Samol had shaped this place when the land was still new. It’s like he’s just around the corner, almost.

 

Fero’s awareness ripples outwards, stretching further, riding on the backs of the birds and wriggling with the roots of the plants underneath their feet, searching. There’s something of Samol here, underneath the heavy glow of Galencia. A lingering warmth, as though Samol’s hand had just been resting on Fero’s shoulder.

 

Fero stretches, reaching further. It’s just a little too far away, too insubstantial, to get ahold of. His cheeks feel damp in the wind coming off the sea, reminding him that he has a body and sending his mind back towards it.

 

There’s a sharpness of someone beside him and Fero startles, almost tumbling off the railing before a hand grasps the back of his shirt, steadying him. Fero’s eyes snap open.

 

It’s Tabard, the fingers of his prosthetic hand pulling Fero upright. It feels cold through the fabric of Fero’s shirt

 

Fero scrubs his face with his sleeve in a way he hopes seems like a casual motion. “I’m fine.”

 

“I didn’t say you were not,” says Tabard, “but I was worried that you’d fallen asleep.”

 

“I don’t sleep,” says Fero.

 

“Neither do I,” says Tabard.

 

Tabard turns, facing outward towards the ocean, his hand letting go to rest on the railing next to Fero. He’s dressed more casually than the day before, a simple shirt and pants with careful embroidery of trailing vines around the cuffs and neckline. 

 

Fero drums his heels against the railing a few times, looking up at Tabard. If Tabard is annoyed by the off beat _thump-thumpthump_ of it, he doesn’t show it.

 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” says Fero, “I was looking for something.”

 

Tabard looks down at him. “With your eyes closed?”

 

Fero makes a face. “I wasn’t looking with my  _ eyes _ .”

 

“I… see.”

 

Fero grips the railing a little tighter, his nails digging into the wood. “I… Samol and I hung out for a while, before he died.”

 

Tabard says nothing, a small motion of his head that could be a nod. He’s still looking down at Fero, his body turned towards Fero like he has Tabard’s full attention. Fero swallows, because he’s come this far, in travel and in words, and he might as well get to the end of it.

 

“So he died, and magic started disappearing, even more than it already was, except for here,” Fero screws his eyes shut, feeling the distant prickle of it, “he’s- his magic’s still  _ here _ .”

 

Tabard makes a considering noise, fingers tapping on the railing for a moment.

 

“I never met Samol myself, nor did I know anyone who had save my Lord Samot, and even he did not speak of him often,” says Tabard, “if his magic has, as you say, gone from elsewhere in Hieron, then our protection here might be more extensive than we had believed.”

 

“Does this mean you’re not gonna let anyone else in?”

 

Tabard sighs, his shoulders sagging from his soldiers posture for just a moment before he straightens again. “If such a thing is known, yes. Even now, we cannot take all, but…”

 

“But you want to,” says Fero.

 

Tabard sighs again. “Yes. The logistics of it are… complex.”

 

“But  _ you _ want to,” says Fero again.

 

There’s a tightness to Tabard’s features. “Yes.”

 

Fero nods, “It was like that at the University too, that’s why I built the Outhouse.” He pauses. “Although I guess if you don’t know how your protection works, it’s kind of hard to build another spot.”

 

Tabard inclines his head. “Yes.” His fingers tap on the railing again, for a moment. “Is that why you are here then? To discover the secrets of our protection?”

 

Fero makes a face. “I guess. I was kinda hoping it wasn’t a secret though.”

 

“Old magic usually is,” says Tabard. He considers Fero for a moment before he turns back to the ocean. “I will try to offer help in any way that we can spare, so long as you do not take our protection for yourself.”

 

“I just want to figure out how we can make something like it back home,” says Fero, “I’m not gonna  _ steal _ it.”

 

“And I have your word?” asks Tabard.

 

There’s a weight to it, just like there was the first time. Fero wriggles on the railing. It’s not the weight of it that itches him but the meaning behind it.

 

“I’m not really a lord baron you know,” says Fero, “or a baron lord. Or anything.”

 

Tabard’s eyes slide towards him, but he doesn’t turn his head.

 

“I see,” he says, voice even, “then why present yourself as such?”

 

Fero shrugs. “To annoy Ephrim, mostly. Besides, everyone else gets to be a lord. Lots of people won’t listen to you properly unless you are one. Especially  _ some _ people.”

 

Tabard’s fingers tap on the railing again. “I have… also known people like that.”

 

“They  _ suck _ ,” says Fero, then quickly bites his lip.

 

He didn’t mean for it to come out quite in that tone, even if that’s the tone he’d use in front of Ephrim. Maybe Tabard has  _ liked _ the people he’s known who were lords. He is good friends with Hadrian, after all, and Hadrian loves lord types. He flicks his eyes to Tabard, whose expression is as still and unreadable as ever.

 

“Anyway,” says Fero quickly, “I just didn’t want you to think I was someone… that I was a fancy kind of guy.”

 

He makes a face to himself, but Tabard nods, like he understands Fero’s meaning. Fero rocks back and forth for a moment, considering. This guy seems alright.

 

“I can give you my word as myself,” offers Fero.

 

“That is more than acceptable,” says Tabard.

 

He smiles for the first time, stone and painted skin shifting together, and Fero grins back up at him.

 

Fero nods. “Great! I give you my word as Fero.”

 

He holds out a hand, because it seems like the thing to do. Tabard huffs a laugh, and shakes his hand. The leather of his gloves is cool, quickly warming under Fero’s skin.

 

“I am honoured to accept it,” says Tabard.

 

“Great!” says Fero.

 

Tabard’s hand lingers in his, although Fero’s sense of what it and isn’t an acceptable length of contact has always been a bit off. His chest aches again for a moment, thinking of Samol, and how he let Fero sleep under his wing or curl on his shoulder or wind around his legs; how it made Samol smile when their hands would linger in one another’s.

 

He shakes off the thought, hurriedly letting go of Tabard’s hand.

 

“So,” says Fero, “any idea where the magic might be coming from?”

 

“If I knew that I suspect I would sit through far less council meetings about it,” says Tabard.

 

Fero’s shoulders drop. “Right.”

 

Tabard takes a breath, fingers tapping again. “There is a place I could take you. I do not know how magic it is, but I have always found it to be a peaceful place. Perhaps it will help you to centre yourself more to find what you seek.”

 

“Great!” says Fero, hopping off the railing, “let’s go!”

 

“I suppose now would be best,” says Tabard, “once your friends wake there will be much to do.”

 

“That’s kind of how it is, yeah,” says Fero.

 

Tabard leads Fero down towards the beach, the rocky path giving way to sand, still cool from the night air. There’s no one else on the beach, and nothing on the horizon save for the slowly-rising sun.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“It is just a little way ahead,” says Tabard. “Not very far now.”

 

True to his word, it isn’t that far from where they came onto the beach. Tabard leads him to one of the little caves that dot the rocky cliffs. Fero splashes through the ankle-high seawater at the cave’s opening, following Tabard further in.

 

Tabard sits on one of the smooth rocks against the cave walls and Fero scrambles up next to him, his toes just barely brushing the cave’s sandy floor.

 

“I come here sometimes,” says Tabard, after a moment, “when I need the space to think. Perhaps it will help you.”

 

“I can think just fine already.”

 

“I did not say that you could not,” says Tabard, “but sometimes it helps to have a quiet space to do so, especially if there is something particular you are searching for.”

 

Fero nods. He lets his feet swing a little as he looks around the cave. Small rock pools reflect the morning light, casting pink light on the limestone walls of the cave. Fero can hear the small ocean plants growing in the rockpools and in the dirt above the cave, a mixture of old and new, talking amongst themselves. He can feel himself start to drift, sliding a little on the stone.

 

“I need something to hold on to,” murmurs Fero. He feels like his voice is coming from somewhere far away.

 

Wordlessly, Tabard puts a hand on his waist, as solid and steady and cave walls. Fero lets out a long breath. Fero leans against him a little, letting his body anchor itself there while his mind wanders.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Fero drifts again, letting the voices of the plants wash over him, the slow in-out rhythm of the waves guiding his breath as he sinks into the deep magic of the land underneath their feet. 

 

It doesn't feel exactly like Samol, but it's close. The land has his warmth. Fero feels like if he told it a joke in a way that it could hear him, he'd hear Samol's laugh in return. 

 

He wanders, winding his way from plant to animal to bird and back again, until he comes up against the line where the heat and the dark begin, crackling and hungry. It pulls at Fero, and he struggles, fighting out of its grasping tendrils of heat. The tendrils twist, turning sharp, a predator’s mouth.

 

The feeling jolts him back into his body and he reaches out blindly, clutching at Tabard’s shirt. His heart is beating rabbit fast, making it hard to catch his breath.

 

Tabard makes a soothing sound, rubbing along Fero’s back. “It is alright, I have you.”

 

He keeps doing it even after Fero calms, slowing the motion of his hand as Fero looks up at him.

 

“I take it that this means you did not find what you were looking for.”

 

Fero shakes his head. “The heat and the dark is… it’s out there, waiting, but it can’t…” Fero makes a face. “There’s something stopping it, like a dam of magic, really old, old magic. It can’t get through, but it  _ wants _ to.”

 

He shudders, remembering the feeling of it scraping it him, trying to pull him in. He focuses on the movement of Tabard’s hand along his spine, steady and cool through the fabric of his shirt.

 

Tabard looks thoughtful. “I believe that is how My Lord Samot used to describe it, when the Heat and the Dark was only in its infancy. He believed there was a way to keep it back from us.”

 

“I guess he was right,” says Fero, “even if you don’t know what it is.”

 

Tabard huffs a laugh. “I suppose he was. I’m sure he would appreciate that. He is a man who has always enjoyed being proven right.”

 

“Lords are just like that,” says Fero, looking down at his feet as they brush against the cave floor, “they’ve always gotta be right and you’ve always gotta be wrong.” He tilts his head to the side. “Although. Samot was okay. When I met him anyway. I guess I met him at kind of a weird time.”

 

“You met with him?” says Tabard, “Oh, yes, Hadrian said that he was at the University.”

 

“Yeah, I wanted to go tell him that-” the tight feeling in Fero’s throat returns, and he swallows around it, hoping Tabard hasn’t noticed his pause. “-Samol told me to watch out for him, so I thought I should go talk to him to see what  _ that _ was about, and he seems okay. We talked about guitars and parties and being a wolf and stuff.”

 

“Your experience with Samot sounds very different to my own,” says Tabard.

 

“Oh yeah?” says Fero, “what was he like with you?”

 

Tabard pauses. “Very much a lord.”

 

Fero frowns, trying to picture the tired but smiling man he’d met with the straight-laced posture of Ephrim. “Maybe he changed?”

 

“Perhaps,” says Tabard, “I am sure that I am much changed since we saw each other last.”

 

“When you and Hadrian fought each other or whatever?” says Fero.

 

“Yes,” says Tabard, “I suppose it would have been around that time.”

 

His face is still, but his voice has a warm tilt to it. It makes Fero think of Samol’s voice, right before Fero would make him laugh.

 

“I guess even lords can get better,” says Fero, keeping his voice deliberately light.

 

It has the desired effect - Tabard laughs, the sound of it echoing in the cave.

 

They sit in silence for a long moment, listening to the tide come in. Fero leans a little further into Tabard’s side, and Tabard shifts, settling his arm around Fero’s shoulder, a newly warm weight.

 

Fero lets out a long breath. “Sorry your cave didn’t work.”

 

“It was worth a shot.”

 

“Yeah,” says Fero, “you gotta try, right?”

 

Tabard’s face shifts into something like a smile. “Yes.”

 

Fero fidgets, looking around the cave again. “It’s nice here though, even if it didn’t work.”

 

Tabard’s smile deepens into something a little warmer, a little easier for Fero to read. “It is. You are welcome to come back whenever you wish while you are here. Perhaps it will work another time.”

 

“Thanks.” Fero bites his lip, considering. “I might need you to come with me though, to, y’know, make sure I don’t fall down. If I sit on the ground I might slide into a rock pool.”

 

“I would be glad to assist,” says Tabard.

 

“Are you sure?” says Fero, “What if I want to come down here all the time? Like every day?”

 

“That sounds to me like you would be giving me an excuse for a break,” says Tabard, “It is no hardship for me to come down and sit with you.”

 

Fero kicks his feet as he looks up at Tabard, his heels hitting the stone they’re sitting on. Tabard’s a little hard to read, sure, but Fero thinks he looks like he means it.

 

He holds out his hand. “Deal.”

 

Tabard nods, shaking Fero’s hand.

 

Again, the touch lingers, but this time Fero doesn’t let go. He’s curious to see if Tabard will, what the line is for pala-din for social norms. The line might be non-existent - Tabard keeps holding his hand, giving Fero time to take note of the smooth leather of his glove, the particular tilt of his body, leaning down the smallest fraction before he ducks his head to press a kiss to Fero’s lips.

 

Fero freezes, and Tabard tilts back, his face unreadable as ever.

 

“My apologies,” says Tabard, “I thought-”

 

Fero reaches up, clutching at Tabard shirt with his free hand.

 

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” says Fero quickly.

 

Tabard smiles, the pink light catching his stone face, making it almost seem to glow. If Fero didn’t know any better, he’d say that the magic of this place came from him, solid and safe and warming against Fero’s body.

 

Fero tugs at Tabard’s shirt, grinning at the amused huff Tabard makes as he leans down to capture Fero’s lips in earnest.

 

It is a long while before they emerge from the cave, but Fero feels more solid for it.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
